


Cotton Candy Skies

by pressbtoblow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Artist!Harry, College AU, Drarry, First time posting up here don’t hate me, I can’t think of more tags oops, M/M, insecure!harry, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14002215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressbtoblow/pseuds/pressbtoblow
Summary: Non-magic auAfter realizing that he's not attracted to girls, Harry leaves his small town and travels to the city to find himself. Along the way, he meets Draco, who he's taken a keen interest in.-Based off of Alex Myung's Arrival-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, and welcome to my first Drarry fanfic! I have to warn you, though, there will be some:
> 
> -swearing/cussing  
> -lgbtq+ themes (of course, why must I state this??)  
> -family death  
> -maybe smut, if I gain an affinity for it

Just a Beginner

"Dab the brush, Harry. Clouds shouldn't look so harsh," his mother spoke softly from behind him.

The high grass tickled his semi-bare legs, the light breeze going by and messing with his messy, dark hair. The boy pushed his glasses up on his face with the back of his hand before he heeded his mother's warning, dabbing the brush lightly against the canvas. His green eyes squinted in concentration, flickering up to the sky and back to his painting, tongue sticking out slightly as he struggled to get each detail just right.

His mother, Lily, must've noticed, because she said, "You don't have to get every detail just right, Harry. You're just a beginner."

Still, little Harry wanted everything to be perfect, despite being only seven. He wanted to be just like his parents when he grew up, like every child.

The breeze turned into a quick, harsh burst of wind, causing Harry's brush to slide across the canvas, accidentally elongating the cloud. An arm reached out to hold the easel in place so it wouldn't blow and topple over the two of them.

A sad whine came from Harry when he saw his masterpiece was ruined. He looked back at his redheaded mother with watery eyes, dropping his paintbrush in sadness.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," she comforted, wrapping her arms around him, giving a squeeze. "All artists start out rough at first. Don't feel sad."

Still, Harry didn't feel better at his obvious botch.

"Hey, I have a surprise for you," his mother said with a smile. "Come pack up your things, okay?"

Curious, Harry helped close the bottles of paint as his mom gathered the easel, canvas, and paint brushes. The last thing Harry plucked off the ground was his palette, and he was off, walking behind his mother, wondering what the surprise was. Another easel? More tools? Food? Maybe they were going out for ice cream.

They climbed a hill, and a picnic was set up, complete with a plaid red and white blanket and a woven basket. Harry's face lit up as he hurried forward and sat his supplies down on the grass beside the setup. He plopped down, his mother soon joining him shortly after setting the things she carried down. They talked over a lunch of sandwiches, pudding, apple juice, and pastries Harry enjoyed greatly. Harry spoke about school, his two friends, Ron and Hermione, coloring and drawing at home, and their pet bird, Hedwig.

It was when it fell quiet when Harry asked something that made the redhead tense up.

"Did Dad like painting too?"

He looked up at her with green eyes that replicated her own almost exactly. Besides them, he looked just like his father, her late husband. She forced herself to relax and cupped Harry's chin.

"He wasn't much of a painter himself, no," she finally responded. "But he did enjoy my paintings, all of my art. And I'm sure he would have absolutely loved yours as well."

Lily had always dreaded telling Harry that his father was dead, and would always dance around the topic, not wanting to outright lie. But, she wasn't sure for better or for worse, he came home one day from school, he had said, "Dad is dead, isn't he?" Lily had froze in washing her dishes, and turned towards her son, who stood in front of her sister, Petunia Evans. She wore the same worried, confused expression as Lily, as if she didn't know where Harry got this information.

"Honey, what makes you think that?" She asked, frying her hands on a hand towel and motioning for the raven-haired boy to come to her.

"Some kids at school were talking about it," Harry said, pushing his glasses on his face. "One boy said that his mother was on a business trip, but his uncle told him that she was dead, that's why she never came home."

The two sisters exchanged glances. At only age five, he was too young to know about death. Lily seriously thought about switching schools as she bent down to his height.

"Harry, honey...there's something we need to talk about..."

Ever since then, Lily tried all she could to prevent anymore dampening of Harry's mood. It was way too sad to explain death to a child and she didn't want anymore instances like that. Still, Harry would ask questions about his father occasionally, a solemn expression taking place on his face.

"How did he die?"

"A car crash."

"What was his name?"

"Your middle name. James."

"What did he look like?"

"Just like you."

Lily focused back on her son's face, smiling softly. "He would be so proud of you, Harry. No matter what you do, he would be proud."

She meant every single word, too.

 

———

 

Those words hung around Harry as he grew up into a more mature person. As a teenager, he didn't think he had much for his father to be proud of, as he wasn't making the smartest decisions. He still painted, for he couldn't go a day without adding even a touch to an existing work. But in addition to that, he began dating. It wasn't any committing dating, either. For some reason, he couldn't find a spark with any girl he's dated, kissed, or fucked. It was driving him mad, making it feel like something was wrong with him. Maybe something was wrong with him.

He couldn't tell his mother, though. She talked to him about how she couldn't wait for him to find a nice girl to settle down with one day, and give her a grandchild or two. How would she feel if she knew that her son was having no connection with any of the girls he saw?

So, he went to his godfather about the situation, as he was the second person he trusted the most, after his mother.

"Still sporting your father's look, I see," Sirius pointed out with a smile as he walked through the door. "What brings you here, Harry?"

There was a moment of hesitation as Harry sat in a couch, sinking in almost immediately. He took in the second coat hanging in the coat hanger at the doorway, recognizing it almost immediately, as it wasn't Sirius'. Somehow, he always managed to visit Sirius while Remus was there, someone he considered an uncle.

"I just had a few questions," Harry said.

Sirius sat beside him, seeming to be perfectly fine with anything his godson was wondering about. Harry knew the man wouldn't judge about anything, nor did he discriminate against anybody, despite coming from a very conservative family. Sirius was the "bad apple" that did more good than harm. Harry remembers being told that the Potters and Blacks were loosely related, meaning technically Sirius and him were blood-related, though it didn't matter. Blood-related or not, Harry still trusted him with anything.

The man leaned back in the couch comfortably. "Be my guest."

"Do I hear...oh, it is Harry!"

A man taller than both Harry and Sirius stood at the entrance of the kitchen, holding a platter with a kettle, a sugar bowl, milk, and two tea cups. He smiled at the teenager as he sat the platter down, then gave him a hug. For some unknown reason, Harry preferred the hugs he got from his godfather and uncle than from the girls he dated. Maybe it was because he was more familiar with them, but he liked how they weren't entirely soft. Sirius was more muscular, while Remus was a tad bit too bony, but Harry knew that the shorter man scolded the taller whenever he didn't eat, which made Harry unconsciously smile.

"I'll get another cup," Remus smiled, going back into the kitchen.

"Is it alright if he stays?" Sirius asked in a low voice.

Harry nodded almost immediately. He knew whatever he said to Sirius would somehow make its way back to Remus as well. Might as well save the extra talking on Sirius' part.

"Are you sure? Because I can send him off to get some butter or something—"

"Really," Harry interrupted with a laugh, "it's fine. I-I want his opinion as well. On the matter."

Sirius' gaze lasted longer than normal before they went to the brunette, who carried an extra tea cup and sat it down on the table. He watched Remus pour the hot tea into the cups for a moment, as if mesmerized with how graceful he was, which always made Harry wonder. How was Remus so graceful? It was easy for Harry himself to knock over something incidentally. And when he didn't, his limbs shook in concentration.

"What's the matter?" Sirius finally asked, focusing his gaze on his godson.

Suddenly, Harry was speechless. He knew he had a problem, but he didn't know how to word it or go about it. Remus wasn't the type to judge either, but he wondered how he could say what was on his mind without it being confusing to both of them. He began to stutter softly, face heating up before he took the cup that was handed to him, made exactly how he liked, with some milk and three sugars. After a regenerating sip of tea, he had enough confidence to blurt out his thoughts.

"Why am I not attracted to girls?"

The two men stopped what they were doing—Sirius was sipping his own tea, while Remus poured milk in his own—and exchanged glances. No, more like a full-on conversation with just their eyes. Harry still never could translate what they were discussing, and he felt like he never will.

Finally, Sirius turned back with him, an unconvincing smile hidden by his mustache and beard. "Ah...girls, puberty, dating. You've hit that age."

That didn't answer his question, but Harry nodded anyways.

Remus rubbed the back of his neck, setting the milk down. "Uh, how long have you been..."

He trailed off, apparently unable to say what was on his mind. Thankfully, Sirius was there to finish it.

"How long have you been involved with girls?"

Harry thought back to the first girl he's ever taken an interest in, which was a girl named Parvati. She was very pretty, and had liked Harry for a while, but he just didn't feel a connection.

"Maybe a year or so," Harry shrugged.

"Already? My boy's becoming a ladies man!"

Remus gave Sirius an apprehending look, which caused the grin to drop into a more serious (ha) expression, which almost made Harry laugh. The oldest male cleared his throat before turning back to the youngest.

"That's not what I meant," Sirius said. "It's just...how many have you dated? One? Two? Because one or two girlfriends aren't enough to tell if you—"

"Twelve."

Sirius raised his eyebrows while Remus choked on his drink. The shorter gave him a few pats on the back before chuckling and focusing back on his godson.

"Now, that's not a lot."

"'Not a lot'?" Remus sputtered across from them.

"Yeah, that's like one a month. That's my little heartbreaker—"

"Sirius!"

"What?" Sirius chuckled. "He's only taking after the greatest heartbreaker there ever was! Tell me, did they beg for you to take them back? Were they on their knees?"

"Sirius, that's enough."

Remus has stood and took the spot to Harry's left, making him sandwiched between the two men, which he didn't mind, as the couch was big enough for even an extra person. He shot Sirius a glare before continuing to speak.

"Do not listen to your godfather, as he doesn't know the difference between right and wrong. Look, I know you're experimenting and all, but don't do it on unsuspecting girls. You'll only hurt them."

"I've apologized," Harry said, hoping that would help justify that he didn't mean to use girls like test subjects.

"That's good, but you can't do it anymore. At least ask them for consent so they'll expect for the relationship to not last. Now, you think you're not attracted to girls?"

Harry shook his head. He explained the lack of connection, the lack of interest, lack of spark he felt with every girl he's been with. How whenever he kissed them, it was mediocre, nothing spectacular. Whenever he saw them, he never had butterflies like he was supposed to. How he couldn't imagine a future with none of them, and he never had the balls to let them meet his mother because he knew they weren't going to last more than a month.

"That's easy," Sirius blurted when Harry was done. "Harry, you're g—"

"Sirius," Remus firmly said. Then, "Harry, you're still young. You're only fifteen! You have your whole life to find yourself, figure out who you are. Have you...have you felt any feeling for anybody else?"

Harry shook his head. Although, with some famous male athletes, he couldn't help but feel some sort of warmth in his groin after seeing them shirtless, dripping with sweat. But he didn't dare tell this to either man, as he wouldn't be able to deal with the embarrassment.

"He might be asexual, Remus," Sirius said. "Or aromantic—"

"Sirius, would you shut up?"

"Asexual?" Harry questioned, curiosity washing over his features. He's never heard of the word before, so he wasn't sure what it meant. Same with 'aromantic'.

"Don't mind him, Harry. Anyways, as I was saying, don't dwell on this. You'll figure out your preferences when you're older, more mature. You're just a teenager at the moment, and I know the idea of dating sounds fun, but it's not that big of a deal. Trust me. It took me all of my high school years to figure out what I wanted."

Harry didn't miss the glance towards Sirius Remus established, the sparkle in his eye, the warmth, the...admiration. That was when Harry knew something was up with the two men. They didn't act like any other guys, flexing and showing off their masculinity. They were almost...feminine. In a way. Maybe they've been around his mother too much.

Sirius had smiled a bit, drinking some of his tea to occupy himself. Although, Harry could have sworn he saw his cheeks tint a rosy pink color.

"But—"

"Don't let your mother's wishes of having a grandchild be the reason you're in a relationship," Remus said. "You have feelings too. Having a child is just the cherry on top."

Harry nodded. He really did want to have a child in the future, but how if he couldn't find one girl he was attracted to? Last time he checked, he needed a girl to have children with. He can't just spontaneously pull a baby out of thin air.

Sirius spoke up again, but Remus couldn't interrupt him this time. "Harry, you're probably gay."

A silence fell between the three of them. Remus was glaring at Sirius, Sirius was watching Harry intently, and Harry stared into his cup of tea. He wanted to react, but he had no idea how to. What the heck was 'gay'?

"Harry," Remus began, sighing. "Harry, don't listen to Sirius. Just because you aren't attracted to girls right now does not mean—"

"What's gay?"

Remus' mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to spit something out. Luckily—or maybe unluckily—Sirius piped up again.

"You are. You're gay, Harry."

That still explained nothing. Did 'gay' mean undesirable or something?

"I...I don't know what that means," Harry sheepishly admitted, looking up at his godfather.

"Holy fuck, Lily," Sirius groaned.

"Language," Remus warned, still obviously furious. For what reason, Harry didn't know.

"She's protects you from too much. It means you like guys, Harry."

It didn't get through Harry's thick skull, as he still haven't a clue what that's supposed to mean. He liked Ron as a friend. Was that it?

"You like dudes, guys, the same sex, fucking cocks! You don't like ladies!"

The simple explanation sunk in, and Harry's mouth fell open in confusion. Harry wasn't gay. He wasn't gay at all. He couldn't be. Right?

"He doesn't understand, Sirius." Remus rubbed his face with a hand, groaning.

"Kiss a guy, you might like it," Sirius smiled.

"Shut up, Sirius."

"Trust me, it's a lot better than you think!"

"For fuck's sake, Sirius."

Harry didn't know whether to be shocked at Remus cussing or the fact that Sirius admitted that he's kissed guys. Did that mean Sirius was gay? Harry wanted to ask him, but how could he without being upfront about it? It seemed rude to ask, as it was a personal question. He decided against it.

"I..."

What could Harry say? He was confused. He didn't like guys. He liked girls, and how...how...

He couldn't think of a reason why he liked girls. None of them gained him any amount of pleasure, frankly. They were all the same, too soft, too needy, too clingy. There was something about them that annoyed him a bit. How they flipped their hair and batted their eyelashes, as if that was supposed to get them anything they wanted. Harry didn't like that one bit.

"Don't you think he should know, Remus?" Sirius asked.

Remus gave another sigh. "Sirius, you've already cause enough trouble."

"Trouble? I'm just trying to save him time! Best he know what he likes now so he can focus on what he truly wants!"

"Why are you his godfather?"

"Because I'm obviously so great at it!"

"You're awful, Sirius. Just...plain...awful."

Harry left Sirius' house more confused about himself than ever.


	2. Wait, Potter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so many Kudos on this *gasp*! Thank you guys so much for the support!! It gives me the motivation to continue ^^

Harry decided not to tell his best friends about the conclusion Sirius had came to about his situation. He himself still didn't get the whole thing. Because he was not gay. Was he?

And what did Sirius mean about kissing guys? He made it sound like he's done it before. Has Sirius done it before? And if so, with who? Did Harry's dad know about Sirius kissing guys? And what about Remus, before that day of course? Did his mother know? The questions were making him feel overwhelmed, especially since he had nobody to bounce ideas and theories off of. They bounced around in his own head, colliding with each other, coming up with ridiculous possibilities.

After days—close to weeks—of mulling over it, he decided he had to tell somebody. His mother? Not now. His best friends? No, he was still trying to figure out if he was actually gay. But who else to go to other than the one who concluded he was gay?

Unfortunately, school work got in the way, as well as him being nervous. What would he say to them? 'Hey, Sirius, I was wondering if you actually kissed a guy before? Oh, and who it was, and who else knows. Thanks!' That sounded like complete rubbish. No, he decided to save himself the embarrassment and focus on schoolwork as much as possible, but he was talking to Hermione on the phone, which wasn't really helping him focus. Though, he hadn't told her that he was doing schoolwork, otherwise she would have hung up right then and there after telling him off for not having done it sooner.

"Harry, you sound different," she observed. Of course, she was possibly the most intelligent person he knew. "Is everything okay?"

He saw no point in lying but tried so anyways. "Mhm. Everything's fine, Hermione."

He failed.

"Harry, something's wrong," her voice was laced with concern. "If you need anything...you know I'm here for you."

He was about to dismiss the conversation when he stopped. Hermione was basically opening the door for him to tell her everything. She was intelligent, she wouldn't tell anybody without his permission, not even Ron. She could help him figure out something. He stopped writing a math problem down, lying the pencil beside his text book.

"Well, you know how I wasn't interested in all those girls?" He hesitantly asked.

"Yeah?"

"Well, funny story. So, I went to my godfather's house..."

He told her everything that happened, from the moment he stepped inside until he left, making sure to not miss a single detail, as it was all important. He knew that if she was there right then, her mouth would have hung open. It was pretty weird and confusing, especially for oblivious Harry.

"Harry...you really think you're gay?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

A blush crept up Harry's neck. He wasn't totally sure, as he could only go by Sirius' guess and his experience with girls.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure, but it's is a possibility."

"Well, I support you fully. It would explain a lot, how you have more guy friends and feel more comfortable with them, how you're afraid to touch a girl—even if it's just me!"

Hermione gave a laugh, leaving Harry to chuckle as well. "So, do you...you know, like anyone?"

Harry quickly shook his head, then replied in the phone, momentarily forgetting that Hermione wasn't in the room with him. "No, not yet. I guess I haven't really met anyone."

"It is a small town. You'll have to get out of it to really meet anybody."

Maybe that's it. Maybe Harry really has to get out of town in order to meet a girl that he has a connection with. A grin broke out on his face.

"Hermione, you're a genius!"

He could practically hear the grin in her voice. "When am I not?"

"When high school is over, I'll move into the city. Not only will I meet someone I'll love, but I can also improve my art career! How come I haven't thought of this before?"

"Because you're so dense," came Hermione's diss.

"Quiet, you!"

Hermione laughed on the end of the line. There was a moment of silence before she spoke up again. "You know, you're dense about something else as well."

"Hm?" Harry had picked up his pencil and resumed his homework during the silence. "What's that?"

"From what you've told me...Sirius is gay."

Harry's pencil froze. "What?"

"Yeah," she released a shaky breath. "That and he's, possibly, with Remus."

Harry day there, turning the theory over in his mind. He's never thought of that, although all the signs are there. Remus is always there when Harry comes around, him and Sirius always share glances with each other, and they're both almost inseparable. Harry's only thought they were close friends, and admired the friendship they had. Oh, how wrong was he.

"Are you sure?" He choked out, unable to believe that he's missed out on something so big for so long. Overlooked the whole thing, never was given a reason to question. Wow, he really was dense.

"I'm quite positive. But I may be wrong," she added hurriedly. "If you want to know, you'll have to ask them yourself."

In fact, he did. When they went over to his house to visit Lily and him, he waited until his mother excused herself to go finish the cake before he asked in a hushed tone. Remus glared down at Sirius in response, while Sirius grinned mischievously. The two reactions were no definite responses, so he asked the two again. Remus was about to answer when Sirius pulled his face down to press their lips together. Harry's eyes widened and he felt awkward as the two passionately kissed, which he's never witnessed before between anybody. He wasn't sure how he should react, to be honest.

Finally, Remus pulled away to say, "Yes, we are." It was all Harry needed.

By the time he graduated, he had bought train tickets to the city to set up his apartment, his belongings already on their way over there. Now all that was left was to say 'goodbye'.

His mother was in tears the whole day, which broke his heart. He always hated seeing his mom cry, and it did no better that they weren't going to see each other in possibly long periods of time. But no matter what, she always said that it was best for him and that he shouldn't worry about her. But he always will worry. She was the only parent he had left.

Sirius and Remus were pretty much the same, Sirius squeezing Harry to death any chance he got, close to tears judging by his voice and misty eyes. Remus has to coax Sirius' arms from around the boy each time, telling him it was going to be okay.

"Chase your dreams, Harry," Sirius said, his voice wavering. "The sky's the limit. Remember about exploring all possibilities."

A smirk made its way on his face, and Remus slapped his shoulder, rolling his eyes. "Have fun, Harry. But not too much. Be a good boy for your mother."

"And me!" Sirius included.

"And this idiot."

"You love this idiot, don't deny it."

Remus smiled down at Sirius lovingly. Words weren't needed to show Harry how much the two loved each other.

Next was Ron, who wasn't going to the city. Instead, he wanted to help out on the Weasley farm with his other brothers and sister, who had the hugest crush on Harry—who still hasn't told Ron about his sexuality confusion. It wasn't nothing sappy, just a few 'take care of yourself' and 'call me's. Harry also said goodbye to the rest of his family, who would have him over at their house, and he's began referring them as his second family.

Hermione didn't need any goodbyes, as she was traveling to the city with Harry, and was staying in the same complex as him, making him feel more safe with someone familiar around. And after one last hug from Mrs. Weasley, they were off to the nearest train station.

The ride there was peaceful and quiet. Harry was sketching Hermione, who sat across from him, reading silently. It would seem stalkerish had he not have done this before many times, giving each sketch to her. She was very pretty, Harry admits, even though he wasn't attracted to her—they even tested it out, her kissing him, only for him to feel nothing but nervousness.

When they finally reached their stop, they gathered their things, talking about the university they're both attending. They were so engrossed in a conversation about the tour they received a summer earlier that Harry didn't watch where he was going, and walked right into someone.

"Ow, watch where you're fucking going!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm..."

Harry looked up, and immediately became entranced with grey pools. They shined ever so slightly in the sunset that colored the sky in pinks, purples, and oranges. His eyes jumped to platinum blonde hair combed neatly in contrast to Harry's bird nest on top of his head. A few strands were loose, waving ever so slightly in the light breeze that blew the green leaves on trees. His jawline was prominent and looked sharp enough to cut, but Harry wouldn't mind if it cut him. Then there were broad shoulders, and Harry almost found himself drooling at the sight of all the features put together on just one man.

The guy stood and dusted himself off before taking a proper look at Harry, eyes softening for a split second before returning back to the cold look.

"I suppose I should help you up."

He spoke as if he was an important person, as if he was one of those snobbish people on television. And, perhaps, he was. He dressed in a suit, as if he was going to a business meeting. But the sun was going to set soon, so he couldn't be, Harry thought.

A pale hand reached out towards him, and Harry stared at it a bit. It looked so soft, well-groomed, manicured. Guys got manicures?

"Are you not going to take it?" Came the voice again. Harry found himself becoming more and more attracted to it the more he heard it.

He noticed the hand beginning to retract, so he quickly stuck is own out, grasping the pale one—yes, it was as soft as he imagined—and assisted in being pulled up. The blonde had a pretty strong grip and impressive strength, as Harry found himself standing extremely close to his chest, able to take a whiff of him. He smelled like books, expensive cologne that wasn't harsh to the nose, and brandy.

"Draco. Draco Malfoy."

Draco. The name sounded lovely.

Draco began shaking Harry's hand, an expectant look on his face. Oh, right. His name.

"I'm, uh Harry. Uh, Harry Potter."

"Nice meeting you, 'uh Harry Potter'."

He has a sense of humor. Harry might as well melt into a puddle on the spot. He was like the perfect boyfriend.

"Wait, 'Potter'?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded dreamily.

"As in James Potter's son?"

The dreamy effect evaporated as soon as he heard his father's name. How did this beautiful specimen know about his dad? Maybe they were family friends, but Harry would've remembered a name like 'Malfoy' being said by his mother.

"Yeah," Harry hesitantly said. "Why? Did you know him?"

"Oh, not me personally. My father did business with him. A fine contractor he was. He designed the second mansion of mine that's being built as we speak."

"Mansion?" Harry questioned. This kid had a mansion? At, what, 18?

"Yes, my father says that we should get a second one built, in case something happens to the first. He wanted it to be a duplicate of the one we have now, but that's just silly. Your father, he can really design. It's actually quite beautiful."

"Can I see it?" Harry blurted. He wanted to see the blueprints or something, to see his father's own masterpiece.

"I don't have it shoved up my ass, Potter," Draco smirked. "But, since you're his son, I guess I can let you take a look when it's complete."

A small grin broke across Harry's face. He's no sure why the offer pleases him, other than it being his dad's work that he's seeing, and not just pictures of beautiful bird houses he's built when he was around Harry's age—which were really extravagant, not the typical birdhouse, as some had stairs.

Draco gave a chuckle. "You're actually kind of cute," he muttered lowly, but Harry still heard him. He didn't say anything, since he wasn't supposed to hear, plus he was looking at Hermione, who was giving Draco a weird look.

"I...I should get going," Harry said, backing away from the taller man—it was another thing he liked, the height—and going to Hermione.

"Understandable. I guess I'll mail you whenever it's ready?"

"Why don't you just call—"

"Splendid! What's your number?"

Draco reached in his pocket and pulled out a pen and a folded piece of scrap paper. Harry recited the phone number to his phone at his apartment, watching the elegant script being written on the paper.

"Great. Call you in a few years."

With that, Draco walked off, leaving Harry with a warm feeling in his stomach.

"I want to be his friend," Harry said, staring after the guy.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh and shook her head.


End file.
